Angola, Louisiana 3 - 1999

Curator: Standing before us is Deborah Luster's portrait, "Angola, Louisiana," captured in March of 1999. It's a gelatin-silver print. Editor: My first thought is that this is not a snapshot. There's a stillness, almost like daguerreotype. I get a gravity here; it has the feel of an old tintype. Curator: Exactly, Deborah's work explores difficult realities often with an arresting aesthetic. Note the surface abrasions – are those chemical remnants, chance encounters or intentional flaws? Editor: Well, the imperfections certainly deepen the impact; I can see the figure wears long sleeves and jeans, a simple pen clipped in his pocket. His hands seem carefully clasped, but they give a strange tension in such a small detail. And he gazes right back. Curator: Yes, those circles around the edges could even resemble planetary movements—the prison context layered onto something cosmic. Editor: It creates this uncanny duality. Is this the photo equivalent of memory? Imperfect but still capable of communicating power? Curator: I think you are on to something; by using that antiquated process she seems to give a nod to lost innocence or a record of past realities. The sitter’s clear-eyed gaze hints he is far from invisible; the photographic chemistry and symbolic composition do not leave the viewer room to look away, but reflect. Editor: Indeed! Like historical accountability made art. Curator: Agreed. A perfect intersection of artist's message and symbol for the modern world. Thank you for sharing.